Hora Stellatrix (Amy Lowell Poem)
The stars hang thick in the apple tree, The south wind smells of the pungent sea, Gold tulip cups are ...
The stars hang thick in the apple tree, The south wind smells of the pungent sea, Gold tulip cups are ...
1 A yellow band of light upon the street Pours from an open door, and makes a wide Pathway of ...
I will not have the mad Clytie, Whose head is turned by the sun; The tulip is a courtly queen, ...
You are a Tulip seen to-day, But, Dearest, of so short a stay, That where you grew, scarce man can ...
The perennials rising so quickly wondering how they grow so fast The image of a tulip, of a crocus, a ...
Ace of spades, in living flesh, silken skin of the shy tulip Petals praying clasped together for the warming rays ...
Perfect droplets cling to the purple skin the liquid flesh of the tulip bloom holding on, for moments more before ...
A simple basket of spring flowers. A token of my love. A tradition begun. And enduring. Iris, tulip, forsythia, quince, ...
TO the assembled folk At great St. Kavin's spoke Young Brother Amiel on Christmas Eve; I give you joy, my ...
Every month or so, Sundays, we walked the line, The limit and the boundary. Past the sweet gum Superb above ...
A Fragment of a Turkish Tale The tale which these disjointed fragments present, is founded upon circumstances now less common ...
Something black somewhere in the vistas of his heart. Tulips from Tates teazed Henry in the mood to be a ...
(As Distinguished by an Italian Person of Quality) I Had I but plenty of money, money enough and to spare, ...
Well, as you say, we live for small horizons: We move in crowds, we flow and talk together, Seeing so ...
When I put her out, once, by the garbage pail, She looked so limp and bedraggled, So foolish and trusting, ...
Into her presence he gaily pranced, A very fat spark, and a bit advanced. With a Samson tread on the ...
Three months after he lies dead, that long yellow narrow body, not like Christ but like one of his saints, ...
Desine, Paulle, meum lacrimis urgere sepulcrum: nempe tuas lacrimas litora surda bibent. Propertius, IV.11 Don't cry for me, for only ...
Within this sober Frame expect Work of no Forrain Architect; That unto Caves the Quarries drew, And Forrests did to ...
Luxurious Man, to bring his Vice in use, Did after him the World seduce: And from the Fields the Flow'rs ...
SEE how the flowers, as at parade, Under their colours stand display'd: Each regiment in order grows, That of the ...
THE DREAM This has nothing to do with war or the end of the world. She dreams there are gray ...
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